


How To Pull A Cheerleader

by flutterby_cupcake_26



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Banter, Cheerleader!Dean, Christmas, Crossdressing, Jock!Cas, M/M, Panties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-09 00:20:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5518430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flutterby_cupcake_26/pseuds/flutterby_cupcake_26
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Dean is roped into being a cheerleader, thanks to his two best friends, Castiel (a popular football player) begins to tease him mercilessly. Dean gives back as good as he gets. But then Sam gets involved, and it soon stops. And Dean finds himself missing Castiel's attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [subtextual](https://archiveofourown.org/users/subtextual/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my efforts for the prompts I was given for the fic exchange! I chose prompt two, "HS au with cheerleader Dean who doesn't care what anyone thinks and football jock Cas that teases Dean but secretly has a huge crush on him." as this was the one where a storyline came to mind out of the three prompts I received.
> 
> However, I'm from England, and when I attended high school I went to an all girls school so my only influences for this kind of story are those portrayed in books, movies, and on TV. I apologise for any inaccuracies.
> 
> I hope this was the kind of story you wanted, Subtextual. I tried to include as much as I could into it! I hope you have a merry Christmas and a great new year as well x

Dean Winchester had never planned to become a cheerleader. It was all a mistake, a coincidence. Or maybe fate, destiny.

 

It was the fault of his two best friends that he even went to try outs. Charlie and Jo were on the squad, trying to complete their troupe for the new year at school. Dean was meant to be there to start and stop the music as the other kids trying out were put through their paces, when Charlie and Jo instructed him. And then he was meant to stop Jo and Charlie from vetoing everyone who was trying out.

 

Try outs hadn’t gone well. Jo and Jess, another squad member, were meant to be showing the crowd a ‘simple’ routine, but no one seemed to have a handle on it. Eventually, Jo had signalled for Dean to cut the music again and glared at the assembled students.

 

“Guys, it’s really not hard. A monkey could get this. There’s eight steps, the music has a count of eight … have none of you been to dance class before?” She turned on her heel, her cheer skirt fanning out slightly as she turned to face Dean, her eyes alight with a new idea. Dean had a sinking feeling when he looked at her expression. That was never a good look on Jo, the new idea look. “Okay, Dean. Show them the routine.”

 

He cringed. He already knew it. Jess was with his brother, she spent far too many afternoons at his house with Jo and Charlie, perfecting cheers, roping Dean and Sam and even on one occasion Bobby, into helping them, doing the lifts that the cheer boys were involved in. Dean and Sam never spoke of it, and Bobby, their adoptive father, barely acknowledged it as it happened. And now he had to do one of the more basic cheers in front of half the girls - and some of the guys - at school. He pretended to watch Jess as she slowly went through the steps, joining in when he thought he could get away with it. And then he kept pace as she sped up, the music clicking back on, and before he knew it, he was cheering.

 

And dammit, if it didn’t feel good. To move seamlessly to the music, hit the points, to concentrate on making his body do what it was meant to. To yell out the simple cheers with what breath was left from the energetic movements. Dean threw himself into it. And then the music ran out, and Charlie was looking at him with that look. The one that said ‘You’re not going to like what I’m thinking, Dean, but I’m thinking it.’ The one that told him that somehow, without meaning to, without wanting to, he’d made the squad.

 

*

 

Castiel felt good. He was back in position as the tight end on the team, which is where he liked to play best. He and the rest of the team had run drills, crossing the field as one, like a real unit. He loved feeling like there were ten other people within the confines of the football field, all thinking the same way as he did.

 

He had worked up a sweat, felt the familiar burn in his lungs, and play-fought with his older brother after practice as they headed to the showers. Gabriel always came off the victor in their rough and tumble games, but Castiel never got hurt. Gabriel wasn’t that good. He spotted Sam, the new quarterback, peering through the gym doors.

 

“What’s up?” He asked. Sam was a good kid. Ridiculously tall, but coordinated with it. It made him intimidating, especially given how young he was. It didn’t seem fair to Castiel that Sam had skipped the awkward, gangly stage entirely, but it was hard to hate the guy. He was so effortlessly happy, even when he was being tackled by half the reserves.

 

“Cheer practice,” Sam grinned, and made room for Castiel to peer through the door as well. “The girl in the uniform with the corkscrew curls? That’s my girlfriend, Jess.”

 

Castiel had seen her around. When she had come to the school the year before, the seniors on the team had gone on and on about how they would have a piece of her. Castiel actually felt relieved that she’d settled into a relationship with Sam. Sam, who was currently snorting with laughter that he could barely hold back.

 

“What?”

 

“My brother. I think he’s trying out.”

 

Castiel looked around the room, past all the tanned legs and short skirts to where Jo Harvelle stood at the front, calling out to the crowd. To the very familiar guy in the front who was easily the best dancer in the room. The guy who Castiel would always recognise from the back of his head. They’d been in enough classes together, Castiel always at the back of the class, Dean somewhere in the middle. In their respective places in the school heirachy. Yeah, Castiel had noticed Dean. But he had never seen Dean quite the way he was now. In his uniform of jeans and a button-down plaid shirt, pumping his arms in the jerky movements of a cheerleader, grinding his hips with a grace that made up for the uniformity of his upper body. You didn’t need to see Dean’s face to see that he was loving try outs. Even if he was in completely the wrong clothes.

 

“No, no, I think he’s in,” Castiel corrected. He straightened up and made his way into the guys locker room, where he announced to the room at large, “Guys, guess what? Winchester’s a cheerleader!”


	2. Chapter 2

It possibly should have amazed Dean, how quickly the rumours spread around the school, but somehow, it didn’t. He walked in the next morning to people looking at him and whispering behind their hands. Somehow, he knew it was about him being a cheerleader, even though Jo and Charlie weren’t announcing the new line up until the afternoon.

 

He was at his locker when someone finally mentioned it to his face. Or more accurately, to the side of his head.

 

“Hey, twinkle toes, where’s your cheer skirt?”

 

Dean looked around at the smug face of the boy who had spoken. Castiel Novak, who was as ever flanked by his brother Gabriel, and one of the line backers, Crowley. He turned back to the locker without saying a word, wondering who could have possibly leaked that information to the football team.

 

“I said,” Castiel started, his voice cutting, and Dean didn’t let him get any further.

 

“I heard. I don’t really care if you’re looking for an excuse to check out my ass.”

 

He pulled a book from his locker and slammed it shut, heading off to his next class. Castiel followed him, and Dean resented the fact they were in the same class.

 

“Check out your ass? Really? You’re the cheer boy and you’re making out I’m gay?”

 

Dean turned around, walking backwards.

 

“Well, sure. I mean, you willingly push yourself up against a bunch of guys, and slap their butts after every play, right? Whereas I get to put my hands in places on the girls in the squad that most guys could only dream of. But it’s okay, Novak. Your secret’s safe with me.” Dean winked, and turned back around, walking into the class room. He slid into his usual seat and gave a big smile to Castiel as he walked in, stomping up to the back row.

 

As much as he’d enjoyed teasing Castiel, as much as he’d defended his right to be on the squad - and Jo had said as much after practice the night before. Dean was definitely in - he wasn’t mad. Not at all. Castiel was, well, gorgeous. And he had to know it, with his tanned complexion, dark hair and insanely bright blue eyes. And for a few minutes, Dean had been the focus of his attention. He was buzzing, and trying not to hope that it was only the start. He wanted more of Castiel’s attention, cheer boy or not.

 

*

 

Castiel was frustrated. Dean Winchester was an enigma. He always had been, even when they were small and he insisted on playing house with Charlie and Jo, even when the other boys teased him. But then his show-and-tell when they were a couple of years older was him demonstrating how to build a radio from scratch. He kept himself to himself, sticking to his friends and his brother.

 

Still, it was frustrating, knowing that Dean wouldn’t rise to the bait. And worse, he’d managed to turn it around on Castiel. No, worse, he seemed to know exactly how Castiel felt, how much he did enjoy the feel of another man pushing against him with their shoulders or chest. The thrill he got from being able to slap another guy on the ass. The times he would wonder if Dean would ever join the squad, to have an excuse to touch him, or see him in the showers.

 

Right now, Dean was leaning back in his seat, bow legs sprawled in front of him, his pen in one hand and his attention at the board, completely oblivious to Castiel watching him, assessing him. Checking out his ass, whatever he may have just said to him. He had been doing it as long as he could remember, taking a seat behind Dean in order to check him out.

 

Castiel wished it could be different. That he could just announce to Dean how he felt, how much he liked him. That it wouldn’t matter if they were together. But he couldn’t stand the idea of being hazed by his brother and the rest of the team if he outed himself, and he really wouldn’t be able to stand it if Dean ever turned around and said he wasn’t interested. It was possible. Dean, Jo and Charlie could be even friendlier together than they seemed. So he kept it quiet, occasionally hooking up with Meg, his friend-with-benefits from another school.

 

Class dragged for Castiel, and as soon as the bell rang he was out of the room, yet somehow still stuck behind Dean. And as always, his eagerness to talk to Dean, versus his need to tamp down his feelings, ended up coming out of his mouth in a jibe.

 

“So, you got a date for homecoming? Because I have a brother who might hook up with you.”

 

Dean looked over his shoulder for a moment, just to check who was speaking to him.

 

“I have standards.”

 

“What, too good for a Novak?”

 

“If your brothers are like you, then yeah. Besides, dates are overrated.” He adjusted the shoulder strap to his bag. “If you’re looking for a date, I heard Garth was getting desperate.”

 

He stepped into the next classroom along, and Castiel had to make the rest of the way to his next class alone, berating himself. Why couldn’t he just talk to Dean like a normal person? And how comes Dean could always one up him?


	3. Chapter 3

The school year suddenly seemed to be flying by. Dean was submerged in classes, homework, cheer practice and cheering at games, and his part-time job helping Bobby out in the junkyard. He still heard the jibes in the hallway, normally from football players, about how he was a cheerleader, but he didn’t let it get to him. It was never very original, and normally from the same couple of players.

 

It only every bugged him when it came from Castiel. Not because the guy was particularly venomous, but because Dean found himself wishing they had a different relationship. One where Castiel wasn’t such an asshole.

 

It happened again a few days after Homecoming. Dean had taken Jo to the homecoming dance, as they always did if neither of them had a date, and for once they had been left alone, even though they had been dancing on the side of the field all afternoon. And there had been relative peace for the next few days, but of course it couldn’t last.

 

“Where’s your beard?” Castiel’s voice was close to Dean’s ear as he changed books over in his locker at the end of school. He barely turned his head.

 

“I shaved. But thanks for noticing.”

 

“Cute,” Castiel tried to pass it off.

 

“I know, you think I’m adorable.”

 

“I meant your two little cheer shadows.”

 

“As apposed to you being followed by Gabriel and Crowley?” Dean rolled his eyes, and shut his locker, meeting Castiel’s eyes. He was still standing close, trying to square up to Dean who was both taller and broader than him, despite Castiel being on the football team. Their chests were almost touching, and Dean felt a stab of remorse that they didn’t quite get on, that there were always these jibes and this ill-feeling between them. And it was for next to no reason.

 

“You don’t intimidate me, Winchester. You can use as much big talk as you want, but you will always be a cheer boy. Remember that.”

 

“Hey!” Someone spoke up from nearby. Dean was all set to ignore them, especially if it was a teacher - after all, he and Castiel were standing close together, talking quietly. They could have been discussing anything - but Castiel jerked backwards, and Dean saw his little brother standing there. “Break it up.”

 

“It’s nothing to do with you, Sam,” Castiel’s tone was friendly, but with an edge.

 

“It’s my brother, it’s everything to do with me,” Sam argued back, and looked at Dean with concern. “Are you okay?”

 

“It’s nothing to do with you, Sammy.” He echoed Castiel, and stomped away from both of them, hearing them talking to each other in low voices and praying quietly that Sam would back the hell off. The last thing he needed was Sam trying to protect him.

 

*

 

“Could you maybe cut my brother some slack?” Sam breathed as Dean stormed away. Castiel watched him go, wishing that Sam hadn’t interfered. And enjoying the view of Dean’s ass as he walked away. “Hey, did you hear me?” Sam knocked his shoulder again. Castiel turned slowly to look at his team mate.

 

“Sam,” he began as civilly as he could, but Sam steam-rollered him.

 

“No! I’m sick of you making snarky comments. So he’s a cheerleader, so what? He’s helping out his friends. Which makes him ten times the guy you are. Remember that.”

 

Sam walked away too, following his brother, and Castiel slumped against the lockers, watching him leave too. Of course he already knew that Dean was ten times the guy he was, Dean was never afraid to be himself. Dean wouldn’t make life tough for the person he had a crush on. And now that Sam had stepped in, Castiel knew he had pushed it a little too far.

 

He stalked off into the student lot, where Gabriel was waiting in his car with the engine running, sunglasses propped on his nose. Castiel slid into the passenger seat wordlessly.

 

“What’s pissed you off, little bro?”

 

“Nothing,” Castiel said sullenly, not wanting to discuss it with Gabriel, of all people.

 

“Right, nothing. Winchester again?”

 

Castiel glared ahead, and Gabriel started the car. They drove in silence for a few blocks before Gabriel spoke again.

 

“Maybe it’s because I know you, Cas, but … your crush on Winchester is so freaking obvious. Sack up and ask him out already.”

 

“Shut up, Gabe.”

 

*

 

“Why did you do that?” Dean demanded, slamming the front door open and stomping into the kitchen, where Bobby was sitting with a newspaper. He looked up as Sam made his way into the kitchen as well, rummaging in the fridge for a snack.

 

“Dean, it looked like one of you was going to hit the other one. You were seconds away from shoving him off, admit it.”

 

Actually, Dean thought, he was seconds away from making a move, and seeing what Castiel would possibly do when a cheer boy kissed him. Being a cheerleader almost gave him immunity, his reputation wouldn’t suffer from doing it, but Castiel playing the big man, the football player, the gift to the school? Yeah, kissing another guy would destroy that.

 

“Sam, you wanna talk about how things ‘look’? How does it ‘look’ when the guy who accidentally became a cheerleader has his little jock brother step in and fight his battles for him?”

 

Bobby whistled, a long, low sound, and both boys turned to look at him. He remained focused on his newspaper, and Sam was the first to recover.

 

“I was trying to stop you fighting him!”

 

“Look, you don’t get it,” Dean punched the sideboard, and the dishes in the drainer rattled, earning him a warning grunt from Bobby. “Whatever’s going on between Castiel and me? It’s between Castiel and me. Okay?”

 

“You’re right Dean, I don’t get it. Do you want him to insult you all the time or something?”

 

Dean didn’t dare answer, in case the truth came out. Because yes, he loved Castiel’s insults in such a stupid way. It meant he had Castiel’s focus, it meant he was thinking of Dean because he would go out of his way to make some poor comment. Dean considered it their brand of flirting, if it was possible for Castiel to feel anything back whatsoever. And yes, he was hoping that Sam’s interruption didn’t cost him some valuable snide-comment-flirting in the future.

 

He stomped out of the room, earning another grunt from Bobby.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam Winchester’s words had affected Castiel worse than he thought they would have. He barely ate that night, and spent most of his time in his room, laying on his bed and thinking.

 

He had gone too far. Maybe Dean spent all his time at home bitching about the things Castiel said. He knew Sam and Dean were close, knew their mother had died young and their father was always away working. They lived with this weird old guy who ran the scrap yard. Everyone knew the basic facts of Dean and Sam’s life, but it was a very different thing, getting to know Dean.

 

Castiel had thought he was making some kind of headway. Like they were getting to know each other in their own sarcastic little way. He didn’t think he’d read Dean so wrongly, but if Sam was going to stand up to him … maybe he needed to apologise somehow.

 

“Little bro, you mope better than anyone I know,” Gabriel announced as he shoved Castiel’s door open, without bothering to knock. Castiel kept his gaze trained on the ceiling, even as his older brother sat beside him on the bed and gave him a friendly shove. “What even happened with Winchester?”

 

Castiel sighed, and folded his arms across his stomach.

 

“Did he turn you down?”

 

“Shut up, Gabriel,” he could feel the tears threatening to fall, gathering in his eyes.

 

“You know, if anyone was, it would be him. Guy has two girl best friends. He’s a cheerleader.” Gabriel settled further onto the bed, laying down next to Castiel, resting his head on his hands. Castiel dodged a stray elbow. “Maybe he’s a hearts-and-flowers kind of guy, not a lets-trade-insults kind of guy?”

 

“It’s nothing to do with Dean.” Castiel forced out, and turned his head away from his brother. Okay, it was something to do with Dean, but it was his little brother who’d made the impact.

 

“Well, why not call him then?” Gabriel got up, and tossed Castiel’s phone onto his stomach. “Man up, Novak.”

 

Castiel ignored his brother, who practically skipped out of the room. He wished he could view life as simply and as positively as Gabriel was capable of. He discarded his phone, ignoring the advice. There was no way Dean Winchester would want anything to do with him.

 

*

 

The walk into school was eerily quiet for Dean. Oh sure, there was still the chatter that made up the background noise, and Charlie was talking his ear off about some new comic book or other that she was trying to get him to read too, but there was nothing from the football players.

 

He saw Castiel on his way to his first class, but he barely glanced Dean’s way. None of the other players filled in for Castiel’s poor jibes either. Dean wanted to ask him what was up, but he had a pretty good idea. He took his seat and began typing quickly on his phone, whatsapping his little brother, demanding to know if Sam had said anything to the rest of the team. It was beyond embarrassing, having Sammy fighting his battles. Dean felt like a leper.

 

The radio silence lasted until lunch, when he finally saw Sam, who pulled him into an empty corridor, Jess beside him.

 

“I haven’t said anything to anyone. I don’t get it, Dean, do you want the team on at you constantly?”

 

Dean couldn’t tell him the truth, especially not with Jess there.

 

“I can fight my own battles, Sam.”

 

Sam looked at Jess, clearly asking for help, but Jess seemed to shake it off.

 

“Well, maybe you can bond with them all over again, because we’re doing a secret Santa!”

 

“Christmas is ages away,” Dean said flatly. Jess rolled her eyes.

 

“I know, but I also know how long some people take to get it together. So, cheerleaders and football team, secret Santa. All presents exchanged at the Novak Christmas party. Pick a name out the hat!”

 

She held out one of Sam’s beanies, crammed full of folded pieces of paper. Dean didn’t bother to argue with his squad mate, and scooped a name out of the hat. After all, he had weeks to pretend to care about getting something.

 

“Check you didn’t get yourself. Or Sam, that’s still cheating,” Jess pushed. Dean sighed, and peered at the name. Of course.

 

“You’re good.”

 

“Great!” Jess beamed, and took Sam’s hand. “We’re going to go find everyone else, give them their names now.”

 

She dragged Sam away, and Dean leaned against a desk, looking at the name on his scrap of paper. Castiel Novak. What the hell was Dean going to give him?

 

*

 

Castiel kept seeing Dean everywhere at school. Seeing his green eyes flicker over in his direction before he could look away. He had no idea what to do. He couldn’t just go up to the guy and talk like they’d always been friends, couldn’t apologise, of all things. And he couldn’t make his usual dumb comments about Dean being a male cheerleader, in case Sam caught him and chewed him out again.

 

He tried to pretend Dean Winchester didn’t exist. That he’d fabricated such a good-looking, sweet-natured, caring guy. With a great ass. And better comebacks.

 

Cas was in trouble.

 

He forced himself through all his classes, and through practice where he fumbled a simple pass three times and earned ten laps around the field. When he got back into the changing rooms, breathless and clutching a stitch, Sam accosted him with a beanie hat that almost took out his nose.

 

“Football and cheerleader secret Santa. Pick a name. Gabe said we can draw it at your Christmas party.”

 

Castiel wanted to groan. He hated the Christmas party. But he reached into the hat dutifully, which only had a handful of names left in it. Of course Castiel would get the dregs.

 

“Check the name on it, just so we can be sure it’s not for you, or Gabe.” Sam suggested. He was being oddly formal as he spoke, and Castiel supposed that he wasn’t forgiven for the slight against Dean still. Castiel unfolded the paper in his hand, and peeked. His heart sank.

 

“No, it’s not me or Gabe,” he said quietly, hiding the slip of paper before Sam could read it. “I’m going to hit the showers now, okay?”

 

Sam nodded, and shoved the beanie into his backpack.

 

“Fine, I’ve got to meet Jess. Later.”

 

Castiel waved, and returned his attention to the scrap of paper bearing Dean’s name. How was he meant to forget about the guy when he had to buy a present for him? What present could he possibly get? He had a feeling that anything Dean could have wanted, it couldn’t be bought with money. He stripped off and climbed into the shower, thinking about Dean.


	5. Chapter 5

The Novak Christmas party was not a normal party by most conventions. Castiel’s eldest brother had dreamed it up, back when Michael had attended high school. It included all guests wearing an ugly Christmas sweater and the only music playing being Christmas carols from any era, and any place. A recent pop number could be followed by a fifteenth century roman choir, which could be then followed by a Christmas classic. All the food and drink had to be Christmas-related. Someone always brought boardgames out, so in amongst the eggnog there were Monopoly-related incidents to the theme of jingling bells.

 

Castiel hated it. He hated how most of his brothers had taken on the tradition when it was their turn to go through high school. Even Lucifer did it, even Uriel. When it was Balthazar’s turn he almost got the entire senior class arrested, and Castiel had barely been able to get any sleep that particular night. And now it was his and Gabriel’s turn, and Gabriel was unfortunately as enthusiastic for it as all their other siblings. So Castiel was in a bright red sweater with a large reindeer on the front, the bulbous nose of the reindeer lighting up when pressed. He wasn’t joining in with the chatter of the assembled students, but standing off to the side, thinking.

 

Dean hadn’t arrived yet. Castiel wasn’t sure when he was going to show up, or if they were going to talk, or if Dean would like his gift. It had taken Castiel ages to think of something, a gift that Dean would potentially like that wouldn’t deter from the way their relationship - or lack thereof, lately - worked. He still wasn’t sure how it would be received. He didn’t know if it would change things, and they would go back to the easy insults of the first few weeks of school. He wanted it back so badly.

 

And then Dean was there, in a loud sweater with a candy cane motif. Sam was just behind him, and Jo, Jess and Charlie just in front. Sam was clutching a stack of gifts, taking away the chance to know who had bought what. They spilled into the room, though Dean hung back and looked around lazily. He looked in Castiel’s direction, and Castiel dropped his gaze, and shuffled towards the door. Not to be nearer to Dean, he rationalised, but to get more water. He couldn’t stand eggnog. But as he reached the door, there was a catcall from where the others were gathered. He turned slowly, still avoiding Dean’s gaze, and realised his mistake too late.

 

Gabriel had, at some point in the preparations, hung mistletoe from every doorframe. He was currently standing under a branch of bright white berries with Dean. Worse, it looked as though he’d intentionally walked towards the opportunity to kiss Dean.

 

“I was just getting some water,” he muttered at Dean, still not meeting his eye. He made to leave the room, head to the kitchen for the water, or his own room to die of shame, but Dean held a hand out, keeping him back.

 

“What’s the matter, Novak? Is it too much to sack up and kiss me?”

 

Castiel finally looked at him, after weeks of avoiding eye contact. Dean wasn’t smiling, but was watching him intently.

 

“I mean, I guess if you did, no one would pat you on the butt after practice, right?” Dean was making a stab at their usual back-and-forth. Castiel wanted to give back, to say it was typical of a guy cheerleader to look for an excuse to score with a football player, but he couldn’t do it. Sam was right in the room. “What’s up with you?”

 

Castiel tried again to move away, but Dean held firm.

 

“Cas?”

 

Castiel looked at him again, despite himself. He wanted a lifetime of hearing that voice say his name that way. And then Dean was leaning closer, catching Castiel’s lips with his own, and Castiel kissed back automatically. Dean’s lips were soft, and moist, there was a hint of peppermint on his breath like he’d been sucking on a candy cane. Castiel felt a jolt in his chest as Dean kissed him, and he wanted it to last, but it was over before it had really begun. Dean headed over to the group, who were sitting silently, still staring at Castiel.

 

He felt more conflicted than ever. Most of his team mates would want him to put Dean in his place. Sam would kill him if he tried. And he couldn’t get his drink any more, because it would look like he was hiding. He couldn’t stay standing in the doorway either, or else everyone would try to imply that even that brief meeting of their lips had stunned Castiel. And that was a truth that Castiel wasn’t ready to face from everyone else.

 

*

 

Dean sat between his brother and Jo and tried to emulate his usual swagger. He had done it, he’d kissed Castiel. The ball was in his court. He didn’t look back after walking away, trying to keep the whole thing casual, but inside he was buzzing. Castiel had kissed back, he was sure of that. Whether he meant to, or it was a surprised reflex, Dean didn’t care.

 

He still couldn’t figure the guy out. Couldn’t understand why Castiel didn’t give back the way he used to. He was starting to regret his gift now. He’d roped Charlie in to help, which meant he’d basically had to explain to her exactly what he felt, why he wanted to do it, what he thought there was between them. But maybe he’d read the guy wrong, and now his gift was going to seem like the most egotistical, insulting thing he could have managed.

 

It was too late. Castiel came back to the crowd, and settled wordlessly beside his brother. No one mentioned the fact that Dean had kissed him, but there was still a quiet tension in the room. Everyone seemed to be waiting for Dean or Castiel to say something, to validate the kiss that they’d just witnessed. Eventually, Sam cleared his throat.

 

“So, presents?”

 

“On one condition,” Gabriel smiled wickedly. “After every present gets opened, we all take a shot of peppermint schnapps. And if you can guess who got the gift, you have to take a second shot.”

 

Castiel rolled his eyes, Dean noticed, as everyone else exclaimed over the idea of getting drunk while opening presents. So Castiel was still sarcastic, and caustic … just not with him. He couldn’t understand why.

 

Gabriel was first to grab a present after the drinks had been distributed, and he tore into the paper with excitement, throwing the paper onto his brother. Castiel brushed it off, and accidentally ignited the reindeer nose. Dean bit back a smile, and tried to focus on Gabriel who was showing his gift of a book of puns to the group, encouraging ideas. It was Castiel who nailed it.

 

“It was Crowley. He hates your jokes.”

 

Crowley tipped his bottle in Castiel’s direction, approving of the answer, and Castiel dutifully took his extra shot, wincing as it went down.

 

A few more people opened presents, including Jo finding a snood from Garth which she was wary of in case he’d made it himself, and some hair accessories for Jess from Charlie. Castiel was the best at guessing who had gotten what, and had an interesting colour in his cheeks as Dean finally took his turn, reaching for the gift on the pile bearing his name and taking the routine shot with everyone else. Then he tore into the gift, which was a Ken doll that had been shoved into one of Barbie’s cheerleader outfits. Dean roared with laughter, and showed it around.

 

“I always wanted me in doll form!” He laughed. “Who got me?”

 

Castiel didn’t try and guess, even as everyone else did. Dean looked over at him - hell, he’d been staring half the evening so far - but Castiel was looking down at his drink. Dean leaned forwards, and interrupted the guesses from everyone else.

 

“Thanks, Cas.”

 

Castiel’s gaze remained firmly on his schnapps.

 

“Take a drink.”

 

Dean did so, wondering why Castiel wasn’t laughing along. The gift was very much in keeping with the kind of friendship - Dean believed it was friendship - that they had. So why wasn’t he laughing along, making stupid guy cheerleader jokes? What had he done? And how badly was Castiel about to react to his gift?

 

There were a couple more gifts opened, and then it was Castiel’s turn. He took a mouthful of schnapps without wincing this time, and tore a corner of the paper away. And then he looked up at Dean, his complexion paling. Gabriel leaned across to look past the gift wrap, and Castiel clutched the parcel close, leaving the room. Gabriel looked at Dean, and he knew he’d seen enough of the gift to work out what Dean had done. His mouth felt dry.

 

*

 

Castiel clutched his gift as he hurried through the house towards his room, forcing himself not to cry. This party was as awful as every other party his brothers had ever thrown, except that this time, Dean was openly mocking him. The kiss was awkward enough, and then when he opened Castiel’s gift he was over-the-top pretending he liked it. Why, so he could feel like he ‘won’? And then Castiel’s present … Dean had definitely won.

 

He got into his room, and placed the present down carefully on his desk, then flopped on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It was calming, to look at the ceiling and think. But he wasn’t given this luxury tonight, because someone knocked softly on the door.

 

“Cas? It’s me. Gabe said this was your room, that you’d be in here. Can we talk?”

 

Castiel didn’t dare answer. Dean opened the door anyway, the Ken doll box in one hand.

 

“Hey,” Dean was still talking softly, not trying to spar with him. Of course not, Castiel considered derisively, after all he’d won whatever it was they were competing over. Dean shut the door softly behind him, and twisted the lock, before he crossed the room and laid beside Castiel on his bed. “So, I think a talk is long overdue.”

 

Castiel refused to react, and Dean sighed loudly.

 

“It was stupid, I know. Charlie warned me before she took those pictures that it probably wouldn’t go down well. But I was so sure you’d get it. I mean,” he waved the doll aimlessly. “You gave me the same thing, really.”

 

“Gabriel came up with the idea,” Castiel’s voice caught around the lump in his throat. “I couldn’t think of anything better.”

 

“That’s probably the football gene talking,” Dean joked. Castiel swallowed. “Okay, what’s up, man? Did Sam say something else? Because I told him to leave it, that we were fine. That it was our business. And I miss you, man. I hate that you don’t even look at me anymore. Aren’t we friends?”

 

Castiel turned his head slowly, meeting Dean’s trusting expression.

 

“Friends?” He repeated. Dean gestured with the Ken doll, as though his thoughts were transparent.

 

“That was cold. There’s the Cas I know and like.”

 

Castiel didn’t think he could say anything else. What could he possibly say? He wasn’t trying to throw an insult for once, he was genuinely surprised that Dean saw it that way.

 

“Do you kiss all your friends?” He asked, and Dean grinned.

 

“Dude, I was under mistletoe and you came at me.”

 

“I needed water,” Castiel pointed out.

 

“And yet, you never went to get the water.”

 

“Yes, well,” Castiel rolled onto his back once more. “I was trying to save face after you mauled me.”

 

“Did you push me away? No. Did you kiss me back? Yes. Face it, football boy, you want this ass that you can’t stop looking at. It’s okay, that’s why I got you the pictures. You can look at my ass whenever you want.”

 

“Do you talk like this to all your friends?”

 

“Just the hot ones.”

 

“Jo and Charlie must feel so special.”

 

“Look, Cas, if you haven’t got it already, if you’ve had too many pigskins to the head? I like you. As in, want to go out with you sometime. As in, I am trying not to maul you for realsies.”

 

Dean was so frank as he spoke, and Castiel couldn’t help but look over at Dean, who took advantage of the moment to press the reindeer nose and light up Castiel’s stomach. He grabbed at Dean’s hand, and Dean twisted it around to thread their fingers together. He leaned closer, and Castiel pursed his lips.

 

“Can I kiss you again? Without mistletoe?” Dean whispered. Castiel didn’t trust his voice, didn’t have the faith in himself that he would say the right thing. Instead, he closed the distance between them, rolling over and laying on Dean, letting him wrap his arms around Castiel’s waist before they gently pressed their mouths together.

 

And then he lost track of time, lost track of everything but Dean and his soft, peppermint lips and skilled tongue and firm hands and warm chest. Somehow, Castiel wasn’t sure quite how, but somehow Dean hadn’t given up on him. Somehow Dean understood exactly how he felt, and somehow - miracle of miracles - Dean felt the same way. Eventually, Castiel forced himself away from Dean’s intoxicating kisses, propping himself up on the bed.

 

“Hey, it’s okay. Just making out, nothing heavy.” Dean murmured.

 

“We’re meant to be partying, Dean. Not making out with each other.”

 

“I know where I’d rather be.”

 

Castiel gave a wry smile.

 

“I’d rather be kissing you too. But I’m supposed to be hosting this with Gabriel and-”

 

“Right. Can we get on with this some other time? Because I don’t think I can go back down to everyone else knowing that this is over.”

 

“Are you asking me out?” Castiel grinned. Dean winked, and they both started laughing. “Okay, okay. But next time, you’re wearing that cheer skirt.”

 

“However you need to keep your masculinity.” Dean replied easily.

 

“And wear panties with it.”

 

Dean placed a hand at the back of Castiel’s head, and pulled him closer for another kiss.

 

“I love that you’re a kinky bastard.”

 

“Dean? Can we not tell them about this? Not that I’m embarrassed, or being a total jock. But it’s new, and I want it to be ours, you know?”

 

Dean nodded, still seeming happy.

 

“Yeah, sure. We’ll just say we cleared the air, you know? It’s kind of true.” He sat up, and scrubbed over his short hair, before catching Castiel’s chin and kissing him again quickly. “Oh, but um, I kind of told Charlie everything when I was explaining the shoot I wanted. So she kind of knows I’m hot for you.”

 

“Yeah, Gabe worked me out quickly. He’s most annoying when he’s right.”

 

Dean laughed, and stroked Castiel’s chin.

 

“It’s okay, no one ever has to know that Gabe was right.”


	6. Epilogue

Dean and Castiel had stuck to their word, and made every effort to meet each other discreetly after the Christmas party. There were some things that couldn’t be avoided, like Gabriel’s witty commentary every time Castiel locked himself and Dean in his bedroom, or Charlie’s knowing looks when Castiel ran past the cheerleaders before a game, as though they were more obvious.

 

But now, Dean was doing something a little more bold. He was bringing Castiel back to his place.

 

“It’s not much,” he admitted on their way there.

 

“I heard it was like a shanty town. Do you sleep in a Ford?” Castiel smiled innocently. Dean shoved him with a shoulder.

 

“You think Bobby would touch a Ford willingly?”

 

“So you sleep under tarp.” Castiel nodded as though Dean’s words had confirmed his suspicions. In truth, he was nervous. He’d heard so many rumours about the way Dean and Sam lived, and this Bobby guy, and their father. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to deal with whatever reality Dean knew. It was easier in his gigantic house, where they could just indulge themselves.

 

“Yep, I’m bringing you to my tarp. So long as Sammy hasn’t stolen it.”

 

Castiel was surprised when they finally reached the place, to see an actual house beside the scrapyard. Dean let them in and headed to the kitchen, where the Bobby was sitting at the table, fiddling with something metallic in his hands.

 

“Hey, Bobby,” Dean greeted him. He grunted, then looked up, his intense gaze immediately falling on Castiel. “We’re going to my room, don’t disturb us, okay? And tell Sam not to either.”

 

“This is Castiel,” Bobby said in response, and Castiel looked at Dean, not sure how to proceed.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“The one you and Sammy keep fighting over.”

 

“Uh, yeah.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck. He looked quickly at Castiel, and then back again to Bobby. “Um, Cas is my boyfriend.”

 

It was the first time Castiel had seen Dean looking nervous, sounding nervous. So this was what broke him, not being a cheer boy or hooking up with a football player, or being ostracised by the school. No, his adoptive father’s opinion was the thing that mattered. But Bobby merely grunted and went back to his project. Dean hesitated for a moment, then gestured up the stairs.

 

“Come on.”

 

“Use protection,” Bobby grunted as they began to disappear. Castiel looked around at Bobby once more, and he winked from his seat at the table. Castiel paled, and followed Dean, who used a chair to secure the door shut.

 

“Okay,” Dean put his hands on Castiel’s chest and pushed him onto the bed, kissing him softly. “Close your eyes.”

 

Castiel did as he was told, reaching out for Dean and meeting thin air. Dean had walked away.

 

“I promise Cas, this’ll be worth it.”

 

Castiel sat with his eyes closed, wondering why he was being so obedient. He strained his ears, but could only hear soft thumps of clothes being changed.

 

“If you’re getting naked and I don’t get to see anything,” Castiel warned.

 

“This is better than being naked. Trust me.”

 

Castiel left a pause for a moment.

 

“So, why are you and Sam fighting over me?”

 

Dean flicked something on top of Castiel’s head. From the smell, and the softness of the fabric, Castiel could tell it was either his shirt or his underpants. He swallowed hard, and made himself keep his eyes closed.

 

“Sam doesn’t think you’re nice to me still. Even though I keep telling him to butt out.” There was a twang of elastic, and Castiel hoped Dean would be done soon. “But shut up about my family, this is about you, and me, and Valentines Day.”

 

“Oh, crap,” Castiel groaned. “Please say you’re not dressed as cupid.”

 

“Better. Open your eyes.”

 

Castiel did, and moved Dean’s boxers off his head, taking in the sight before him and not completely absorbing it straight away. Dean was just in his cheer outfit.

 

Except he wasn’t. He was in a tighter shirt, and a pleated skirt. He had matching heels on, just like in the photographs he’d taken for Castiel’s Christmas present.

 

“You kept the outfit?”

 

“I had a feeling I might need it again,” Dean grinned. “You like what you see?”

 

“Hmmm,” Castiel cocked his head to one side. “Do a cheer for me. One that shows me your spanks.”

 

“What makes you think I’m wearing those?” Dean grinned. Castiel held the boxers up in answer, and Dean came closer, back within reach. Castiel ran his hands up the back of Dean’s thighs, not stopping despite the shiver that went through his boyfriend. He only stopped when his fingertips grazed lace. And then, crude as it may have been, he lifted Dean’s skirt up and looked. Dean was straining against a pink lace-and-satin number, which looked absurd against his hairy thighs.

 

“You could have shaved too.” Castiel chided, dropping the hemline of the skirt, and pulling Dean onto his lap. Dean straddled him, pressing his groin against Castiel’s.

 

“Next time.”

 

“I’m holding you to that,” Castiel smirked, and Dean pressed closer, finally kissing him. Castiel’s hands sneaked under the skirt again, cupping Dean’s lace-and-satin clad ass, tugging him closer. Dean was cradling his head, kissing him hard, practically bouncing on his lap. Castiel started working Dean’s panties off with one hand, undoing his own belt with the other, fumbling as he pulled himself free. He felt the satin graze his own dick, and groaned into Dean’s mouth.

 

“Hey, keep it quiet, Bobby’s still downstairs.”

 

“It’s such a turn on, you talking about Bobby.”

 

“Shut up and fuck me,” Dean whispered back, moving closer, as close as he could, to Castiel’s body. Castiel obliged, not because Dean was in charge, but because he wanted the same thing very much. Dean pulled a small tube of lube out of the chest section of his top, and passed it clumsily. Castiel took it, and covered himself in it before easing in to Dean, who despite his warnings, was panting and groaning fairly loudly himself.

 

They fell quickly into a rhythm, Castiel’s eyes closing with the efforts of thrusting up into the boy on his lap, their panting almost alternating as they rode each other swiftly to orgasm. Dean lost it first, covering the cheer skirt in come, his whole body going limp as Castiel continued thrusting a few more times before he too succumbed. They held each other close, and Castiel opened his eyes again, to see his boyfriend smiling down at him.

 

“Next time,” Dean mumbled as they kissed again. “You can wear the cheer skirt.”

 

“Nope, that’s still you.” Castiel brushed his nose against Dean’s. “It’s my reward for pulling a cheerleader.”

 

“I knew you were just after the skirt.”

 

Castiel laughed, and Dean kissed him again, before slowly easing off of him and going back to his closet. He passed some fresh clothes to Castiel, and got dressed himself, dumping Castiel’s clothes and the cheer outfit into the laundry.

 

“Won’t Bobby ask about the skirt? Or Sam?” Castiel checked. Dean shrugged.

 

“They’ll assume it’s Jo or Charlie’s. Especially Jo, she leaves her shit here all the time.”

 

Dean moved back onto the bed, cupping Castiel’s face and kissing him again, determined to continue making out until Bobby came knocking. Castiel sank into his soft lips, his firm arms, his solid chest, glad that he had never lost Dean, after all.


End file.
